


Fool's Paradise

by amuk



Series: Battlefield [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Army, F/M, Gen, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, Loneliness, Long-Distance Relationship, Romance, Separations, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:07:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And one day, Sasuke will think of home as more than a word. Sakura hopes it'll be soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fool's Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Day 6 // hello/goodbye

She opens the door to find his shoes piled neatly beside the welcome mat, an umbrella leaning against the wall next to them. Encrusted with dirt, she stares at them for a moment before springing into action.

 

(She tries not to think about how long it has been since she’d last saw them, of the blood that is mixed with the mud)

 

He could be in the kitchen, a newspaper in one hand as he waits for the tea to boil. He could be in the study, carefully pulling out the ancient tomes of his clan, the inheritance she had yet to see.  He could be—oh, but she doesn’t like that possibility, of the suitcases that remain unpacked as he takes a breather.

 

“You’re late,” and he has the upper hand once more, appearing out of washroom, rubbing his hands with a towel.

 

“I ran out of food.” There is a lilt to her voice, she thinks, and probably a wide smile on her face. There is something wild and electric running through her veins.  He’s home (her feet stamp, her fingers twitch), and it isn’t long before she hurls herself at him.

 

He doesn’t even grunt as he catches her, arms steadying her as she takes him in. “I see.” Briefly, he rests his chin on her forehead, pulls her close, and relaxes his grip, back straight as he watches the windows.

 

Tense, she thinks to herself, still tense and wary and sometimes it’s like he hasn’t left the battlefield behind, isn’t standing in her hallway. There are potted flowers lining the walls and the scent of his peppermint tea is wafting in and he still can only see explosions in the distance, hear bullets bursting through flesh and cloth.

 

Sasuke once told her that every place is a warzone waiting to happen.

 

She never found the words to make him think otherwise.

 

“How long are you staying?” Her voice sounds muffled against his chest, choked and lost, and she keeps her face buried there, pressed against the scent of smoke and death.

 

“Only for a few hours.” There is regret laced with his words, one arm tightening slightly across her shoulders.

 

“Ah...”

 

She has become accustomed to his farewells, more so than his greetings. They are always the same, a proud stride as he departs, a small suitcase in one hand and his jacket in the other. 

 

“For how long?”

 

And this time the guilt is obvious, a heavy thing as he rests his chin once more on her hair. “Four months.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The kettle is whistling in the background, shrill and demanding. She pulls away, disentangling herself. “I should go get that.”

 

He stops her, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “I have time off after that.”

 

As she turns, skin flaming, she tries not to hope.


End file.
